A Being unto Itself

February sometimes feels like a being unto itself. A variously grey and beautiful, amorphous, month that calls for patience and hope. And other things besides… February Toolbox A soup pot and a sturdy spoon; red pepper flakes; a daily walk. Only playing go-seek; A blanket of wooly heft, a flask of tea; a pom-pom upon…

An Appreciative Sigh: Peace of Place II

I share this now from the warmth of a coffee shop where I just had the woman who made my flat white ask—“Do you live near here or over on X street? I saw a woman taking out her garbage at the building next to mine and she looked just like you! I thought that…

A Hundred Thousand Species of Love

One of the characteristic signs that I am enjoying a given bit art is that its surface shimmers, loosens, allows me to enter and consider more deeply what I encounter there. So it is with the book I am currently reading. There are a hundred thousand different species of love, separately invented, each more ingenious…

The Peace of Place

Now and then, through grace, things line up and I am awash in what I know as The Peace of Place. When for an unpredictable duration, there is a beautiful synchronicity of action, awareness, and interior disposition that gives a glimpse of what William Wordsworth hinted at in the lines …that blessed mood, In which…

The Beauty of Soup and Story

I woke up one morning this week with a specific felt need for vitamins and protein. Okay, Coffee too…first…and then vitamins and protein. In the fridge, there was still some carrot-squash-apple-lentil soup from a recently thawed batch. Huh. Why not? It had everything going for it—already made, super tasty, spicy and sweet, and packed with…

Trips Around the Sun or For A While, for Longer, for Life

The other day, a Facebook friend used a delightful expression that I am going to borrow (Thank you!)— Today, 4:19 AM, EST, marks fifty trips around the sun for yours truly. I find that rather astounding. I remember calculating from a young age that I would turn thirty with the change of the century. Fifty,…

A New Year

I had thought I saved a big long bit that was going to begin this blog entry. Alas, no. It’s okay, though…a chance to trim up the edges and tighten up that which was lax in thought or expression. I have been reading two different yet connected books this last week or so. One is…

Advent IV, 2019

(Click on the ‘Play’ arrow to hear the poem read aloud…)